Licorice Scented Saxophones

I was 13 years of age and had just started playing the clarinet in junior
high band at this time. My grandpa was excited that I had begun studying
music, and he gave me a C Melody tenor sax that had belonged to his mother,
my great-grandmother.

These saxophones are rare. They don't make tenors in C-pitch anymore (with
good reason, they sound terrible!). Of course, I was over the moon about
this instrument. It was SO COOL to my 13-year-old self.

Every time I played with it, though, the smell of black licorice would fill
the room. I found this to be odd but thought nothing of it. However, the
feeling that I was not alone began to bother me. I felt as if I had
invisible company in the room. I didn't feel watched, just that someone else
was there.

I finally thought to ask my mom about the licorice smell. She smelled it,
too. My mother informed me that my great-grandmother had always carried
Black Jack Gum (licorice-flavored, very pungent) in her purse for the
grandkids.

We talked more about this lady I had never met. I learned that she had been
killed in a car accident about three miles from our home. I began to suspect
that the presence I felt had to be hers.

One Saturday, my folks went out for a dinner-and-a-movie date. I was happy
to have the house to myself and brought my clarinet and sax into the living
room to practice in front of the TV (a bad habit I still have, except I am
now a 26-year-old recording artist). The licorice smell permeated the room
immediately. I started to get a little nervous and felt again that I was
definitely not alone.

I turned the TV off and listened for any sounds evidencing a presence. I
heard nothing, but a plant in the doorway of the living room began to quiver
inexplicably. I watched it in fascinated horror. One of the leaves was
pulled forward as though someone passing by was brushing it with their hip.
As the "person" passed, the leaf then sprang back to its position and
wobbled back and forth for a few seconds with the momentum!

I was absolutely terrified. So scared! I ran as fast as I could down to my
grandparent's house and stayed there until my folks got home. I told them
all about my experience, and they seemed skeptical but could not deny that
something had happened.

This "haunting" only continued for a couple more months. I realized quickly
that I had nothing to fear from the entity I assumed was my
great-grandmother. I think she was just curious about me, her
great-granddaughter. Nevertheless, she always scared me. I think when she
left it was because she didn't want to keep terrifying me.